


What We Get, What We Have

by underwhomst



Category: Doctor Sleep (2019), Doctor Sleep - Stephen King
Genre: Billy Freeman lives, Dan Torrance lives, Falling In Love, M/M, Mention of substance abuse, The Shine gives you cat ears, This Is Incredibly Self-Indulgent, catboy Dan Torrance, im not even sorry, imagine being in love, is that a tag you ever thought you'd see be honest, love CONFESSIONS!!!!!, mention of the True Knot, yeah that's right you heard me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:00:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24297001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/underwhomst/pseuds/underwhomst
Summary: There are several things Dan must confess.
Relationships: Billy Freeman/Dan "Danny" Torrance
Comments: 6
Kudos: 61





	What We Get, What We Have

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so cat!Dan birthed from a groupchat in like... early April... and it has consumed my life completely ever since.  
> I am my own beta, and sometimes that means I suck =w=""
> 
> I'm on twitter @/underwhomst, where I never shut up and I post art!

The Shine came with some interesting things, things that you quickly learn how to hide. Because they’re strange. Because they make you stand out. 

And standing out in such a hungry world is dangerous. 

For Dan Torrance, his Shine manifested in… less than enjoyable ways. Atop his head sat two tall cat ears, and a tail protruding from his lower spine came to match. 

It was something he learned how to hide pretty much immediately. He was lucky people just thought it was a headband at first, and that he was just playing when he’d yelp in pain after they had tugged at them. So little Danny learned how to hide them. It was more like masking them, if he was being accurate. Tony taught him how. 

The ears and the tail were still there, just blocked out of people’s perceptions. You’d have to be actively _looking_ for them, would have to Shine, to see through the barrier. So he kept them hidden, and no one was the wiser, and there wasn’t another incident.

Until Colorado. Until the Overlook Hotel. 

Dick Hallorann saw right through Danny’s mirage, was able to see the fluffy appendages that sat atop his head and the long tail swishing behind his back, both the same blond as his hair. And Danny could see what Dick had— the small brown ears of a rodent, one without the tail to go with it (Dick says they’re hamster ears). But he was friendly.

The ghosts of the hotel, those ravenous, evil, starving creatures that turned Jack Torrance’s darkness into a puppet of death and traumatized both Danny and his mother, were not so friendly. But somehow, miraculously, he survived. His mom too.

And that’s the last time anyone saw his Shine like that again. After all there was no point losing the mirage just because his mom knew, and he _never_ used it in front of her; just used it one last time to chase the brown of Jack Torrance from his eyes so his mother could look at him without flinching.

All his ability was good for was locking up those ghosts, anyway.

The rest is history. He tried to cope, failed to, hit rock bottom and moved to Frazier, fresh off the bus. He met Billy there, and Billy got him set on the right track. Billy was the first person Dan reached out to for help in God knows how long. He owes a lot to the man, more than Billy will let him say— wants Dan to see how he healed himself, for himself, and Dan gets that, really, he does, but he can’t help but see Billy as the catalyst.

But that wasn’t all, no not one bit. There’s a lot Dan owes to Billy that he fears to bring up. There’s a lot Dan feels. 

They grew close, Billy and him, through those eight years of Dan’s recovery. Dan considers Billy his best friend, and he hopes Billy does too, in a way, but really Dan wants more than that. He wants to kiss away the feeling of butterflies in his belly whenever Billy smiles at him, wants to touch Billy’s arms when the man bares them unwittingly when it gets too warm. He wants to curl up next to him, head on his chest, and just be whenever and wherever, not just when Billy’s comforting him after one of his terrors. And he planned to tell Billy all of this, strip his heart bare, just so the other man would know, and maybe (maybe…) he’d like Dan the same.

Something else got in the way.

He met Abra. The Shine lived in her too. And there was evil; an evil he now had to destroy. 

The True Knot. 

He almost lost Billy. He almost lost himself, and everything happened so quickly. 

Dan’s just happy it’s over.

But one good thing did come out of it. Billy knows of the Shine, and he knows Dan has it. He doesn’t know of the rest, though. The… extra appendages the Shine’s effect had on him. Actually, he hadn’t brought it up at all since both their respective brushes with death. And if it was up to Dan, that was perfectly fine. He doesn’t need another thing to stress over.

So of course, Abra had other plans. Dan loves the girl, truly he does, and he wears the title of “Uncle Dan” rather proudly, but she _loves_ to meddle. With him especially. 

Abra took a day trip up to Frazier to visit, her mom close behind, but it was just her, Dan, and Billy hanging out in the comfort of their own home. Dan’s talking with her, asking her about her classes, and watches the black flick of her tail as it swishes about with her enthusiasm, her folded ears just as expressive, and Dan’s sure his are just as telling, can feel the relaxed thump of his tail against the chair. But Dan’s are still masked from the average mind’s eye, still hidden away from the world, and he wrongly assumes it’s the same for Abra’s. He doesn’t know that when Billy walks in, balancing three glasses of iced tea in his arms, he can see them too, and it startles the breath out of him. Dan looks up at him.

“You alright, Billy?” he asks, but Billy’s not looking at him. He’s staring at Abra-- at the crown of her head where her additional ears rest. Dan’s face pales in realization.

 _Abra,_ Dan hisses. _Your ears._ Abra looks at him with an arched brow. 

_I know_ , she replies easily. _I let it happen. I don’t get why you won’t. It’s just Billy._ Dan barely suppresses a groan, resists the urge to press the heels of his palms into his eyes.

 _It’s not that simple_ —

“I didn’t know the Shine could do that,” Billy cuts through, and his gaze shifts to Dan, who tries not to shrink under it. Abra glances between the two men.

 _Oh, I get it._ She’s amused, Dan twitches in annoyance, and Abra’s laughter rings in his mind. _You haven’t told him because--_

_I’m not talking about this._

_Because you’re afraid he’ll know!_

_Enough, Abra._

_You think the Shine’ll tell him!_ Her response is riddled with laughter.

 _I’m glad you are finding some amusement out of it,_ Dan says dryly. Her dark eyes glitter at him, still laughing. 

It’s then Dan notices how long the silence has stretched, with Billy still standing there awkwardly, looking lost. His cheeks redden, and he clears his throat to speak, but Abra beats him to it.

“Yeah, it can,” Abra explains easily,” but not in everyone. It depends! There’s many things that go into it.” She’s repeating information, rattling off what Dan told her from what Dick Hallorann told him, and Billy listens actively, nods along to what she’s saying, but his eyes are on Dan.

Dan makes an excuse to leave, and dreads when Abra does. He can feel the questions Billy wants to ask, and he’s not sure he’s ready to answer. But he can’t _not_ tell Billy the truth, so it looks like he’ll just have to be. 

Hours later, Dan bids Abra farewell, wishes her and her mother safe travels, and when he closes the door as they depart it’s just him and Billy. Dan contemplates the wood of the door, and he waits for Billy to start. And Billy does. 

“Danno,” says Billy, and Dan lets out a soft hum in response, turns to look at him slowly. He’s curious, Dan can feel that much, and he tugs at the sleeves of his blue sweater in an attempt to pull out the jitters he feels. Billy continues, “so… the Shine can do that.”

“Yes,” Dan looks at Billy, can’t bring himself not to. “It… manifests in certain ways. In Abra, it’s a Scottish fold. In Dick, the man who taught me, it was some kind of mouse. Hamster, maybe.” Dan trails off, smiles awkwardly. 

“Abra said that it doesn’t always make those,” Billy says plainly. Dan nods. 

“Yes, that’s true.”

“What about you?” That, Dan knew Billy was going to ask, but it didn’t make him any more prepared. He winces, and his gaze drops. Hell with it, just tell him. Rip it off like you would a bandaid. 

“I… yeah. I have them.” 

“You—?”

“Yes. Tail and ears both.” 

A pause. A long pause, and then a question Dan didn’t expect, but honestly he should have. 

“... can I see ‘em?” Dan looked up, and the surprise must show on his face because Billy is quick to backtrack. “If you’re not comfortable, you don’t have to.”

Dan shakes his head, “no, it’s not that.” It’s a little bit of that. “I’ve just ah… I haven’t shown anyone, not on purpose, not someone who couldn’t see themselves.” Dan shifts his weight. He feels weirdly exposed in the space of the commons. Billy, observant as he is, takes not of it. 

“You don’t have to do it here, Dan. C’mon,” Billy beckons him, gestures to his room at the end of the hall, “where we usually chat.” Then, Billy smiles at him, and Dan feels some of his nerves wither away and die. He follows easily, and once the door closes behind him he breathes out a final, calming sigh. The change of scenery helps. This space has nothing but _safe_ attached to it.

“Alright. Just, don’t freak out,” Dan pleads softly, and Billy promises he won’t. Dan closes his eyes.

The mirage shatters, he hears Billy gasp, and when Dan’s eyes reopen, he knows Billy is staring at the blond-white ears atop his head. He can feel the anxious twitch of his tail, and Dan clasps his hands together tightly. 

“See, ah… not too strange, if you think about it,” Dan says with a nervous chuckle. Billy shakes his head.

“No,” he agrees. Dan sees the twitch of his fingers, and he finds himself taken aback once more. Dan searches Billy’s face, who comes up for the words himself before Dan can ask. “Wow. Uh, would you mind if I?..” 

_I want to touch_. The thought finishes in Billy’s head. Dan tries not to go dizzy at the idea. He swallows thickly. 

“Go, um,” Dan clears his throat. “ Go ahead.” He tilts his head forwards, takes the heat of Billy’s stare off his eyes, and it provides a harmless little barrier. Billy reaches out. No one’s touched him before. He’s not sure what to expect.

He feels Billy’s fingertips touch the shell of his ear, disrupting the fur there, and he closes his eyes as a comfortable warmth spreads throughout his body. It felt pleasant. Dan hums softly, and he doesn’t realize he’s pressing forward into Billy’s touch until Billy’s other hand rests flush against the side of Dan’s face. The touch on his ear becomes firmer, encouraged. Dan feels Billy’s fingers slide behind, scratching softly at where the ears meet his scalp, and his eyes slip close with a shivery sigh, rests his cheek in the palm of Billy’s hand. It’s peaceful. Dan feels _safe_ . Briefly, Dan catches a fleeting thought of _soft_ from Billy’s mind. He doesn’t pay it too much attention.

There’s a noise Dan doesn’t recognize, barely acknowledges, sleepy with the affection. Billy’s fingers cease their movements.

“Danny,” Billy calls gently. Dan leans deeper into his touch searchingly. “Danno.” At that, Dan cracks open an eye, peers up at Billy with a quirked,questioning brow. Billy’s looking at him with a mix of awe and warmth. Dan almost blushes under the attention. Billy passes a hand through Dan’s hair, who resists the urge to close his eyes once more, and says, “didn’t know you could purr.” Dan chokes, jerking head up in shock, the drowsy feeling gone. He stares at Billy with bewildered blue eyes, face flushed red. 

“No,” he denies, embarrassed. He’s sure his ears and tail showcase that perfectly, the traitors. “Not possible. I do _not_ purr.” Billy’s chuckling at him now, delighted, and Dan dodges his attempts to pet again, bats Billy’s hands away. His ears twitch back, annoyed (Dan’s _annoyed!_ ), but he’s smiling nonetheless, finding humor in Billy’s efforts. 

(For a moment, precisely three seconds, he even considers a playful hiss, but Dan figures that would more so hurt his case than help it.) 

Billy catches Dan’s face between his hands, Dan’s own hands grasping onto Billy’s forearms, and they’re both laughing. Dan’s eyes focus on Billy’s, drawn out of the joyous squint they were in, and they are a lot closer than Dan thought they would be, practically breathing each other’s air. The chuckling dies down, and it is replaced by this strange tension. Dan chews at the inside of his bottom lip, wets his lips briefly. He searches Billy’s face for something, anything. 

Dan’s voice comes out a hoarse whisper, “Billy, I uh…” Dan swears he sees Billy lean forwards, and whatever he was going to say evaporates as Billy’s mouth presses against his. It’s soft, a pressure that is barely there before it’s gone, and they stare at each other. That same tension lays palpable between them, and Dan decides _fuck it_ , and he lurches forwards, taking Billy’s face between his hands as well, and he kisses him, harder this time, something that definitely happened, and Billy reciprocates.

Billy walks Dan backwards, and Dan lets himself be pushed flush to the wall behind him. One of Billy’s hands falls to Dan’s waist, the other stays cupping his jaw, and he arches into it, pulls Billy closer.

 _I love you,_ Dan pushes to Billy desperately, afraid to talk, afraid to say it out loud. _I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you so damn much._

“I love you too,” Billy says as he pulls back with a nip to Dan’s lip that has him suppressing a keen. He mumbles it against Dan’s lips, and now they really are breathing each other’s air. “Have for a while. Didn’t think I’d ever get to say it. Didn’t know if you’d still be here, or me.” Billy’s hand sneaks back up to his head, into his hair. Dan’s eyes close momentarily when Billy’s nails scrape lightly, and he starts to believe that maybe he really did purr. 

“I’m here,” Dan affirms, brings Billy in closer with his arms, kissing the corner of his mouth. “You’re here. I love you. Billy, I love you.”

Billy slides his arm past Dan’s waist, broad palm pressing gently against the small of his back. It’s a subtle urging, more of a hint or a suggestion than anything to commit to, but then the other hand has fingers digging into the fur of his ears, coaxing Dan into a boneless state of warmth and pleasure, and Billy’s kissing him again.

It doesn’t get much farther than that, just to the verge of _too sweaty_ and a pleasant tingle in his toes, and it’s perfect. Dan wishes he did something sooner, said something sooner, but then he realizes that it’s not something to dote on. He has Billy, Billy has him, and Billy’s leading them somewhere that will be _leagues_ easier on their backs, and Dan’s content. He’s not sure there’s much else to do at this point, not much he _wants_ to do except focus on the man now hovering over him. 

What he does know, however, is that he’s buying Abra the biggest chocolate bar she’s ever seen in her life.

\---

The next morning when Dan starts to wake up, he is brought into consciousness by fingertips massaging slow relaxed circles into the back of his head, right where hair and fur coalesce. Blue eyes open, sticky with a strangely pleasant grogginess, and Dan sees Billy reading a book, Dan’s head thoughtfully tucked under his chin. He notes how worn the book looks, obviously well-loved, and he’s tempted to fall back asleep, warm, happy, but Billy’s hand moves from his head down to the bare skin of his waist.

“Mornin’,” Billy greets, smooths his palm gently over Dan’s side.Dan buries his nose into Billy’s collarbone for a moment before shuffling upwards, resting his weight over his forearms to give Billy a quick peck. 

“Hi,” Dan smirks at him, eyes crinkled up kindly. Billy watches him, watches the relaxed arch of Dan’s tail (which _honestly_ , Billy’s still wrapping his head around that) sway, careful to keep his hands away despite the want to feel. Boundaries, and all that. It’s something Dan appreciates; he’s not used to people _seeing_ , and even less used to people actively _touching_ , the Shine-induced ears and tail. It’s something for him to, at the very least, warm up to, preferably with Billy, if Billy even wanted. Dan’s smile wanes a little with the uncertainty. “Billy—”

“I meant it, Dan-o,” Billy beats him to it, “what I said yesterday. That I love you.” He sets his book down, bringing his other hand to Dan’s face. He thumbs at his cheek, and Dan leans into the touch almost desperately. 

“Me too,” Dan affirms, scoots himself closer, kissing the hinge of Billy’s jaw. Billy moves his hand up and down the slope of Dan’s back. The hand on Dan’s face slides to grip gently at the back of his neck. Dan hums softly, kisses Billy properly before sitting up next to him. His hand finds Billy’s, their fingers entangling, and Dan is sure it is more his imagination than anything, but his hand feels so _small_ covered by Billy’s. He feels like he can barely see his hand. Dan brings his gaze up to look Billy in the eyes. “What… what’s next? For us, I mean.” _We are an_ us _right?_

“Whatever we want.” _I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Danny. As long as that will be._

Dan feels his face warm, eyes stinging. Billy makes a soft, wounded noise. He pets back Dan’s hair, passing gently over his ears, which now lay flat and passive against his skull. 

“Don’t cry,” Billy murmurs, and there’s so much love and warmth in his eyes that Dan just wants to cry harder.

“They’re good tears this time,” Dan says with a wet smile. Billy beats him to swiping the tears out of the corners of his eyes. He laughs, squinting joyously. “I promise.” Billy smiles too.

“Good,” Billy finally moves to sit up, swings his legs over the edge of the bed. He cups the back of Dan’s head briefly before standing. “How about we start our day, hm?” he ventures after a stretch. Dan goes to follow.

“Breakfast?” 

“Sure. Up for some tuna?” Dan gives him a look. Billy leans back with a deep laugh. “Joking, Danno, I’m joking. I’ll see you down there.” Billy pauses, gives Dan a brief once-over, and Dan feels warm for a different reason. “Maybe put on a shirt though. And your own pants.” With that Billy exits, pulling his jacket over his shoulders. 

Dan shakes his head, chuckling. He scrounges for his old clothes from the day before, and he reflects. He’s in love, he thinks, and Billy loves him back. They’re going to spend the rest of their lives together. He smiles, feels warm and safe and happy.

As Dan leaves, he comes to a conclusion that he’d be happy anywhere as long as it was with Billy. As long as Billy was in his life, Dan knew he’d be content.

Because Billy felt like home.


End file.
